


Dancing over the Ice

by capdfox



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 08:25:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2725616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capdfox/pseuds/capdfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bitty caves into pressure from fans of his vlog to capture a figure skating session. And even though he tries to find a time to do it alone, Jack shows up and ends up watching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing over the Ice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [buunifiedplums](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buunifiedplums/gifts).



> The first fic I've written in ages, and it's for Swawesome Santa 2014! Hope you enjoy it.
> 
> \- Capfox

Eric yawned as he settled in front of his computer and switched on the webcam. He blinked at his face on the display a couple of times, and then got up to turn on a light in the room. The sun was just peeking up over the horizon, and even if enough light filtered in to see by, it wasn’t enough yet to actually get a good video done.

He checked how he looked in the video preview window, and smiled, just tugging down his Samwell t-shirt so it wouldn’t have any wrinkles. And speaking of wrinkles, he didn’t look bad at all for the amount of sleep he’d had. He couldn’t let on anything about his plan, or someone would come screw it up. Just thinking about it, he felt a small thrill. But if it was going to work, he’d have to get this show on the road.

He set the camera to record, and grinned. “Hey y’all! I’ve got a special treat for all you loyal viewers for today. Y’all keep asking about getting to see the old me – all I ever show here is life as a Wellie! And as great as the school and the team are, a whole lot of you have been asking to see me back doing a different kind of skating.”

He bent down to the side, and pulls up a different pair of skates, holding them up to the camera. “That’s right, figure skating! All y’all who wanted to see those moves, rather than my hockey ones, I’m putting it out there for you. I may be rusty – heck, my old coach would go crazy seeing me recording this for anyone to see without being in tip-top shape! But I’m pretty sure I can give you an idea of what I could do on the ice back in the day.

“And I even worked it out with Coach Hall that I could get ice time today in if I got there early enough!” He swung the webcam to the window, showing the near darkness outside. “Which is why I am up at this ungodly hour to give you what you want. Or what you deserve!” He crouched in view of the little glowing dot, and said, “I borrowed a camera to show you everything, so let’s get to it!”

With that, he stopped the camera, and got up to stretch, before packing away his skates, putting on a jacket, and shouldering the bag. Stifling another yawn, he made his way out of his room. Even if he couldn’t remember the last time he got this little sleep voluntarily, he still felt jazzed enough, and it was all he could do not to hum or sing on his way out. But if he woke anyone up, they’d see what he was up to, and then what would happen? So he stifled the songs down with the yawn, and made his way out into the morning cold.

***

The rink at Faber was pristine and quiet in the budding light, and Eric fussed with the camera. He wasn’t used to using a tripod, but it wasn’t hard to get the right angle. But he wanted the exact one for where he’d be out on the ice, so that if he stayed where he expected to stay for his routine, then the whole thing would be captured. The less editing he needed to do before he uploaded it, the better.

Finally, the framing was right, and he stepped back to look over his outfit one last time. It didn’t feel right to be out on the ice at Faber without wearing his hockey uniform, but it had to look right for figure skating, too. So he’d come up with just sticking some pins in the sleeves and sides to make it fit more closely. The pants were tight enough they won’t get caught in anything or throw him off, anyway.

Everything set, he stood in front of the camera, and waved. “Okay, so now I’m at Faber, and I’m ready to give you a show! Remember now, I used to be better, so if I’m not fancy enough for y’all, I was fancier once.” He grinned for his viewers, and then backed off towards the ice.

“Okay, warmups,” he said softly, and then pushed out onto the ice. The skates may have been different, but the feeling of being out on the ice to put on a show stayed the same. As he pushed off, starting to make circuits around the ice, the hush in the building in the low light almost church-like, just the tones of his skates scraping and gliding filling the air. Moving felt different without a stick, a plan, teammates to think about it. Just him and the ice and the flow. The artifice of it.

He made some simple spins, a quick small jump out of the view of the camera near the corner of the rink, and then nodded firmly to himself. Right. Show time.

He skated to a stop, checked the time – more than enough to do the routine before anyone might get here – and then leaned down. He tapped on his phone to pull up the music, stuck it in the small speaker setup he’d lugged along, and set it to play.

There were the few seconds for him to get back on the ice in position, and then the low beat started, and the strains of Hot N Cold came on, and he felt suddenly at ease, his legs starting to pump automatically. The number of times he was on the ice, early in the morning, perfecting this with Katya. It may have been years, but you don’t forget a routine once you have it.

He moved smoothly around the ice, turning, twisting, skating backwards and waving. Glide over _here._ Now, over to that spot and _sit spin_. The feel of the jersey against him felt hotter than his old gear, but with the pins in, the sleeves didn’t get in the way. He pushed out, feeling comfortable, gliding towards his first jump.

***

_What._ Jack stood at the top of the bleachers at the middle. The music audible from outside the doors already gave a solid cue about who was inside. Not likely anyone else on the team would be here now. Listening to that.

Coming in quietly, he saw Bitty. Skating around and jumping like a maniac and spinning in circles, all in time to the music. No sticks, nothing, just dancing around. Fast, too. The initial shock passed. It was actually impressive.

_We could use this_ , Jack thought. _That move there. Or the way he swings his hips out like that. Why doesn’t he use that? It doesn’t just have to be dancing. He can be graceful like that for us._

He narrowed his eyes, moving down a couple of steps and gazing at the younger man. Watching as Bitty glided, balletic, over the ice.

 ***

Halfway through his routine, Eric knew that he was being watched, and it wasn’t just the camera. The air in the rink gets different when there’s someone else there. Even when it was just Katya, he knew it. He could find where she was, and he’d spot this person soon, too.

He circled, eyes gazing out to the stands, as his legs moved him towards a double axel. But then he realized who that was standing there with his gear bag at his feet, and his eyes widened. Katy sang her way through the chorus, and Jack was up there. Glaring? Staring? Probably glaring. Despite having a night exam the day before and wanting to sleep in. Despite the whole reason for choosing today being that he wouldn’t have the competition, and he wouldn’t have to skate where Jack would see, until it was too late.

He felt his face redden slightly beyond just the flush of exertion, and at the last moment, he converted the move to a double toe-loop – easier to land. No crashing now, it’s bad enough to be caught using the rink for non-hockey shenanigans, at least there’s got to be a good show for it. He arced through the air, and came down, slightly flubbing the landing as he thrust his arm out, but nothing noticeable to the untrained eye, he thought. And he moved smoothly enough around the rink after, gesturing and smiling, not looking at Jack more than he had to. The camera, the audience, that was the idea.

The next circuit, as the song wound down, he calculated in his mind – _how close am I? What can I pull off for the finale?_ He’d planned to try the two jumps he used to do, and if they didn’t work, then that’s for the people watching his vlogs – they’d see his mistake, and they’d appreciate that he’d tried. But Jack… he couldn’t have Jack see him sliding out, catching himself as he sprawled on the ice after a jump. This wasn’t checking practice. This was what he was expert at, for when he was by himself.

He took a deep breath, and then set his mind. Single axel, double salchow, that’s good. He can do that. He took in the length of the rink, the point where he’d show up on camera. Jack at the corner of his eye. And then he pushed forward and launched himself into it.

***

Bitty threw himself into the air, one spin, and then bounced up for the second jump. Jack’s breath caught, and he leaned forward just a hint, as Bitty spun twice more, and landed. Stuck the landing hard, and then skated off the energy, going to the end and then coming around toward the door of the rink. He felt his lungs unstick in the cold air. The song finished, and the sudden quiet suffused the air, as Jack descended one step.

Now Bitty was at the door to the rink, banging to a stop. Jack saw him, breathing hard, forehead flushed, jersey hanging on him closer than usual, oddly. _Did he alter the jersey for this?_ He squinted. _No, there’s a glint. Metal?_ He took a step down, then another. _Pins?_

Bitty called out from below. “Jack! Gosh, I didn’t think you’d be here, and I talked with Coach Hall, he said I could have the rink now. I just wanted, oh no!” He got the door open and hit stop on the camera. “Sorry, I just wanted to record it, to send some people, and I thought, no way you’d be out here this time, with last night, and you said not to have anyone disturb you, and Holster said he might do this…”

Jack descended the stairs, looking at the shorter man, his bag left at the top of the bleachers. Bitty widened his eyes. “But he wouldn’t have, I mean, you know, he just was joking, he wouldn’t, haha! And I wasn’t going to wake you, I was just going to be done, and I’ll be ready for practice later.”

Jack noticed how Bitty’s eyes got wider, and his speech faster, the closer he got – his face even reddened as the space between them closed. What did Bitty think he was going to do to him? Bitty’s hair was darkened with sweat at his hairline, and Jack cocked his head slightly.

He raised his hand, and moved it to Bitty’s forehead, pushing his hair back, feeling the sweat cooling there. He thought the other boy might almost explode, with that expression, and he smirked. “Bitty. Show me next time.”

Bitty raised his eyebrows, and then laughed, guileless and loud, as Jack went up to get his bag. With his back turned as he hauled himself up the stairs, Jack bit down a small smile. “I will, if you want, Jack, I just didn’t know, and you were so exhausted, and…” Bitty prattled on below.

_Enough of a show for one day_ _,_ Jack thought. _Now. Time to get on the ice._


End file.
